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Glass Plate
glass plate.
My life is like a glass plate.
a glass plate sitting in a cupboard,
with 7 or 8 plates behind it.
i'm in the front of course.
with the other plates stacked too close,
pushing me up against the cupboard door.
The moment someone opens it, I'm gone.
Absolutely done for.
I fall and break into pieces.
But, if I'm lucky, someone will catch me…
before I break.
Just like how I always have problems
pushing me to the edge,
And i'm just waiting to fall and break.
I'm just waiting for that one person to make me fall.. or “open the cupboard door”
Would falling even be the answer?
When I feel broken and I haven’t even hit the floor.
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I was having a very rough time when I wrote this poem and writing had always been my way of expressing how I feel